


where is the shepherd?

by monimala



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gap Filler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 11:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monimala/pseuds/monimala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A filler scene between the season three opener and episode two, sure to be Jossed. Emma is alone in the darkened clearing with a pirate, sitting on the spread wings of his leather duster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	where is the shepherd?

David and Mary Margaret—her _parents_ , she has to remind herself—take the first watch. Regina takes the first, “Fuck all of you sniveling mortals, I’m flouncing into the woods.” That leaves her alone in the darkened clearing with a pirate, sitting on the spread wings of his leather duster.

“Don’t worry,” Hook quips, draping his arm over his kneecap as he settles back against the fallen trunk of a dead tree. “I doubt she’ll get eaten by anything nasty. In fact, she’s more likely to do the eating.”

Emma can’t help it. Her eyebrows go up. But he doesn’t follow the observation up with the obvious dirty leer. It’s so shocking she can’t stop herself from pointing out his failing. “Really? You left the door wide open with that and didn’t go through?”

She shouldn’t be able to see the quirk of his lips in the thin sliver of moonlight. Shouldn’t notice that his eyebrows rise to match hers. “Perhaps I was just waiting for you to cross the threshold, love.” He chuckles, tilting his head. “Or maybe the thought of her Highness just makes me lose my appetite. You should get some sleep,” he adds. “You’ll need all your wits about you.”

He’s gotten… _softer_ since they’ve arrived here. It doesn’t make sense. Feels ridiculous to even think it. But she remembers toasting to Neal with him, sharing grief and memories and… _silence_. A good silence. The kind of quiet she hasn’t had in a long time. But sleep? “I don’t think I can.” Henry’s out there somewhere. Lost and scared. What kind of mom is she if she rests while he’s hurt or…or…

“Emma.” It’s like he sees the panic in her eyes. Hears the choked gasp in the back of her throat over the night sounds of the island. He moves from the tree in one swift movement and takes her hand. “Stop it. Stop it right now. This is the world where frightened little boys _survive_. Where they thrive. Where they…” He grimaces. “Where they turn into monsters. Pan will keep Henry alive for whatever dark purpose he intends. It’s our own skins we need to worry about.”

He’s too close. All bright eyes and sea scent and clothes that blend him into the darkness. Emma’s breath catches for reasons that have nothing to do with Henry, and that just makes her feel terrible all over again. Terrible and frustrated and turned on. That’s Hook…reordering her priorities to fit his agenda. “Y-you’re good at that, aren’t you? Worrying about your own skin?”

It’s meant to be a criticism, but he doesn’t take it that way. He just shrugs, the movement both elegant and economical. “I’ve had to be. Who else will?”

One part of her is instantly annoyed. Prickly. Ready to swipe back at him for being selfish. But the other part…the other part understands completely. She knows what it’s like to live that way. It’s only this past year that she’s finally had people who worry about her. That she has a mother and a father—God, they’re the same age, and she still can’t get used to it—and a child and friends and neighbors. Before, she was just like him. Complete with leather armor and missing appendage. Her heart, though. Not her hand.

The seconds tick by, and her lack of reply should be awkward, but it isn’t. He just settles in, on his knees in front of her, still holding onto her. His thumb strokes over her knuckles. She swallows and tries not to shudder when the sensation ripples all the way through her body.

“I quite fancy you,” he’d said in front of the others. He _likes_ her. And what drives her crazy is that she actually likes him, too. How he moves fast and talks faster but is — _almost_ —always up-front about what he wants. But liking Hook, fancying him, isn’t going to save Henry. And it isn’t going to get them out of Neverland in one piece.

Only trusting him will.

Her eyes flutter shut, and she exhales. His fingers skate up her wrist, her arm, her throat and then wrap around the back of her neck. He gently pulls her forward, and she doesn’t resist. For once, she doesn’t fight. Because all the fight has gone out of her.

His chest is broad, solid, not exactly the best pillow. But the minute her cheek makes contact with the soft material of his shirt, the tension in her muscles eases. “That’s it, love,” he murmurs, tugging her into his lap, pulling the folds of his coat up around her like a blanket. “I’m here.”

It shouldn’t be comforting. She’s been abandoned so many times that she shouldn’t even believe it. But she does.

David and Mary Margaret take the first watch. Regina takes the first “Fuck you.” And Killian Jones takes care of her. For just a little while.

 

\--end--

 

October 5, 2013


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